


R'n'R

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Hints of Gladnis, Relaxation, mentions of male genital waxing, mentions of strip clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: Ignis takes Gladio to open his mind and show him how he chooses to relax. It doesn't involve strip clubs.Written for Ignis Fluff Week Day 5's prompt: Relaxation





	R'n'R

Gladio grumbled, sinking down into the car's seat as scenery whipped by. The outer edge of Insomnia was verdant green, the view marred slightly by the presence of the wall at the distant horizon. It wasn't nature, though, it was a cultivated greenery, a faux-wild, designed to be safe and manageable. The most dangerous things living in it were stray cats and dogs.

Spending a weekend with Iggy had sounded like a great plan at the time. He'd dragged Iggy out to bars and clubs and strip clubs plenty of times, and Ignis had always seemed to have fun with him. Maybe not so much at the strip club, Gladio thought. He'd sat as far back in his chair as the chair would allow when the girl had gyrated in his lap, looking as if he daren't swallow, and then he'd politely thanked her, tipped her, and retreated behind a table for the rest of the night so no more girls could get close enough. Gladio had enjoyed himself immensely, but he'd been forced to admit that maybe a lapdance wasn't how to get Iggy to unwind for a weekend, so he'd asked him how he did it.

Which brought him here, to Iggy's car, on their way to some spa retreat that Ignis claimed to visit whenever he actually got a day off. As far as Gladio could figure that was about three times a year, and only when he had no other choice, but he hadn't argued. He'd promised Ignis he wouldn't sneer at the idea, even though the notion of it sounded ridiculous. Gladio already received massages; deep tissue massage was a painful but necessary affair when you worked out the way he did, but it wasn't something Gladio considered relaxing.

“If you don't enjoy it, Gladio,” Ignis said, not taking his eyes off the road, “I won't bring you again. I can't say fairer than that.” He flicked an indicator as a turn off approached, and Gladio watched him check his mirrors before slowing down, and again before taking the turn. Iggy was always a conscientious driver. “Just try to keep an open mind, that's all I ask.”

Gladio grumbled again, muttering, “Yeah, yeah.”

Ignis gave a sigh, and no more was said as the car wound its twisting way down the road, and up to a building that looked like some sort of sprawling hotel. “We're here,” Ignis said, selecting a parking spot near the entrance and backing them into it.

Gladio refrained from commenting. The place was fenced in, but the carefully selected and planted trees and bushes were everywhere, and he could hear running water as he got out of the car. He followed Ignis, jamming his hands in his pockets and feeling a little like a child tailing after their parent around a supermarket, or possibly some place of historical interest.

“Mr Scientia!” a female voice called from the reception desk as he and Ignis walked inside. “It's a pleasure to see you again.”

Gladio looked from Ignis to the girl. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, and her face was all full lips and fuller lashes. She was pretty, really pretty, and definitely not the sort of girl that went by Lulubelle and gave lapdances in the Hungry Coeurl on a Saturday night. 

“It's good to see you too, Aurora,” Ignis replied, approaching her at the desk. Gladio furrowed his brow. Ignis came here often enough that the receptionist knew him on sight, and he knew her first name?

“You booked for two?” Aurora asked, holding out a clipboard towards Ignis.

Ignis took it, and gestured almost carelessly over his shoulder in Gladio's direction. “This is Gladio,” he said, “he's never been before, so I was hoping this could be an education for him.”

Aurora looked at him, as Ignis took a pen and began to place little marks on the paper he'd been handed. Gladio swallowed, nervously. “Hi,” he said, trying not to sound like an idiot.

She smiled as brightly as the sun, and it was the first time Gladio had ever felt as if he was being sized up by a girl that didn't want to jump his bones. He swallowed, awkwardly. “Hello,” she replied. “Has Ignis explained what services we offer?”

“Massage,” Gladio answered, and fought the urge to shrug his shoulders. “Dunno about anything else.”

Aurora's smile brightened. “Yes, we do massage,” she said. “There's traditional, shiatsu, aromatherapy, hot stone, aquatic, reflexology, cranial, and acupressure. We also offer hand massages in our manicure service, and foot massages in the pedicures.”

Gladio blinked. “That's a lot of massages,” he said, dumbly.

Out of the corner of Gladio's vision he caught Ignis smirking, and handing back his clipboard. “Give me his,” he said.

Aurora smiled as she took Iggy's clipboard from him, and offered him another one out. “Choosing for him?” she asked.

“For his first time,” Ignis agreed.

Aurora gave a nod, turning to a computer terminal. “What about waxing services?”

“For me,” Ignis replied, without looking up as he ticked things off on his new sheet. Gladio took a step closer to read over Iggy's shoulder what he was being signed up for. He saw ticks in boxes next to _Hot Stone_ and _Cranial_ , and watched Ignis put another tick in a box next to _Manicure_. “Not for him,” Ignis added.

Gladio threw Ignis a sharp look. “You get waxed?” he asked.

Ignis looked up at him and arched one eyebrow above the line of his glasses. “You think my eyebrows stay this pristine of their own accord?” he asked.

Gladio wasn't sure if that reply confused or disappointed him more. “Oh,” he said, although the idea of Ignis getting his brows waxed was weird enough on its own. “I thought you meant,” he trailed off, and gestured with his hand at his own crotch, “you know.”

“Only on special occasions,” Ignis replied.

Gladio stared at the man he'd thought, up until that moment, that he knew. His best friend. Iggy, the workaholic that never took a day off, and didn't have an ounce of chill in him, was stood before him, casually talking about getting his balls waxed as if it was no big deal, and Gladio couldn't for the life of him tell if he was being messed with. 

Ignis gave him a flash of smirk, and then handed the clipboard back over to Aurora. She took it, graciously, and then said, “We reserved your usual room.”

“Thank you,” Ignis replied.

There was a little paperwork, then. Things to sign, and questions about musical tastes, and known allergies. Gladio had no allergies that he knew about, and he had to sign a disclaimer to that effect. By the time that was done another pretty woman in a white dress uniform had approached, and Gladio found himself being offered a drink, and escorted away from Ignis.

“Just try and enjoy the experience,” Ignis advised, as a glass of Altissian red was placed in his hand.

Gladio was given a beer, and watched as Ignis was led in another direction by a different pretty woman in white. The room Gladio got taken to was clean, and peaceful, and smelled faintly of lavender. “”If you could remove your clothes?” the woman, with red lipstick and blonde hair, said to him.

“All of them?” Gladio asked. He'd never been nervous about undressing for a woman before, but here and now, not really knowing what exactly Ignis had signed him up for, or what was about to happen to him next, he was.

The woman smiled at him, the same bright smile that Aurora had given him, and subtly different, he realised, from the smile she'd given Iggy. This one was a work smile, not greeting a regular you like smile. “You can keep your underwear on,” she said, “if you wish. Many of our clients don't. When you're done, lie on the table.”

Gladio wanted to ask if Iggy kept his underwear on, the thought of Ignis getting his bits waxed refusing to leave him. His eyebrows, sure, Gladio could see it. It was weird, but Iggy's eyebrows were thin and perfectly shaped, not the big broad caterpillars Gladio sported. Trying to imagine Iggy with untidy eyebrows wasn't working for him, but maybe that was just because Iggy was always so put together.

Maybe he came to a place like this to stay that way? He'd said this was how he relaxed, although Gladio didn't see what could be relaxing about having your hair ripped out. Maybe Iggy found it relaxing to let someone else do the work of keeping him looking put together. Hell, maybe getting his brows waxed saved him five minutes in the mornings, or whatever. It was an extra five minutes in which to down a can of Ebony, knowing Iggy, but he probably wouldn't turn it down.

He stripped down to his underwear once the woman left, taking his time to finish his beer and poke around the room out of idle curiosity. There was a music player, and a metric shitload of towels. One whole wall was nothing but glass, showing a nice, if carefully cultivated, garden with a winding stream.

Gladio lay on the table after poking around, and waited. Once he'd hit the point where he was starting to get bored, a door opened, and a tall, lean man walked in, pushing a covered trolley. “Mr Amicitia?” he asked.

Gladio inwardly cringed. “Only my dad gets called that,” he replied. “I prefer Gladio.”

The man gave a nod. “If you could lie on your front, and we'll begin. Do you know what a hot stone massage involves?”

Gladio looked at the trolley, and found he really had no idea. “Not really,” he admitted.

He got one of those smiles again. “First there's a few minutes of traditional massage, and then we'll continue while I'm holding a stone. I'll place stones on you, in points that I think you need them. If you don't like it, tell me, and I can remove them and we'll leave this as a traditional massage. Is that okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Gladio decided.

“My name's Otium,” the masseur said. “I promise you're in good hands.”

Gladio had his reservations about that, but he turned onto his front, and tried to relax. Music started playing, something soft, and choral, and Gladio listened to the sounds of Otium setting up his station. A towel got draped across Gladio's ass, even though he was still wearing his tight black boxers, and then warm hands found his shoulders.

At first Gladio was tense, expecting it to hurt like the sports massages he usually got did, but although the pressure was insistent, it didn't cross the threshold into painful, and Gladio started to relax. He was just starting to see how Iggy might enjoy this kind of thing when Otium pressed a hot rock against his shoulder and used that to work the muscle.

The sensation was some weird combination of taking a hot bath the day after a solid work out, and the soothing press of hands against his skin. Gladio groaned, quietly.

“Is that all right?” Otium asked, slowing his movements a little.

“Yeah,” Gladio answered.

All right, Iggy, he thought, he'd give him this one. The massage wasn't bad at all. Even though it was weird lying there with rocks placed on his back, it was oddly relaxing. Even when he rolled over, and the treatment was continued on his chest and stomach, stones tucked into his palms.

Gladio realised he'd missed the end of it when a hand gently shook his shoulder. “Gladio?” Otium called.

Gladio opened his eyes, feeling warm and comfortable enough that he was expecting to wake up in his own bed. “Sorry,” he said, as reality dawned.

Otium shook his head, laughing a little. “We're done,” he said. “If you'd like to put on a robe, one of the girls will take you to the hand and cranial spa.”

Gladio blinked, realising he had no idea how much time had passed. He didn't know where his clothes had gone, either, not that it seemed to matter much as he slipped into a white robe that was just that bit too small for his frame.

One of the girls, and he wasn't sure if it was the same blonde with red lipstick as before or not, came to collect him, offering him another drink as she led him to a different room. There were multiple seats in this one, although it was the same view over the cultivated gardens as before, and this time he saw Ignis, lounging in a corner while someone attended to his hand.

“How was your massage?” he asked, as Gladio was shepherded into the seat next to him.

“I think I fell asleep,” Gladio replied, looking Ignis over. He was in the same white robe as Gladio, although Iggy's fit better. His hair was combed back off his face, and damp, as if he'd been in water, and he had a blissed out look on his face that Gladio honestly hadn't seen before. “Where were you?”

“Sensory deprivation,” Ignis answered. “A dark floatation tank, insulated against sound,” he supplied, glancing at Gladio as Gladio finally took a seat. “A half hour of nothing but myself and my own thoughts,” he said.

Gladio wasn't sure if that sounded terrifying or relaxing. “Fun?” he asked.

“Intense,” Ignis answered, and flashed him a smile. “Everything seems so much sharper when you leave, it's almost overwhelming.”

“You look chilled,” Gladio said, as a girl came over and brought him another beer.

Ignis smiled, softly. “That is thanks to Lenis, here,” he said, giving a slight nod towards the girl that was perched at his hand, carefully working her fingers over his knuckles. “She's a wonder with a manicure.”

Gladio grumbled. He'd seen that Ignis had signed him up for that as well. “Might skip that bit,” he said. “Don't think I could face Iris if I had to borrow her nail polish remover, y'know?”

Ignis shook his head softly, and Gladio caught the roll of his eyes. “You don't have them painted,” he said, “just filed and moisturised.”

Gladio grinned a little. “Doesn't seem like a proper manicure if they're not painted,” he teased.

It was worth it to see the bright flash of teeth from Iggy as he teased back, “Well, I have always thought pink would suit you.”

Gladio kept his grin in place, agreeing, “Maybe I'll be bold.”

A woman came up to him, this one with brown hair, and dark brown eyes, and asked, “Gladio?”

Gladio looked up at her. “Yeah?” he asked, wondering if he was about to eat his words on the bold front. He definitely wasn't having his nails painted. Not here, anyway. He'd let Iris paint them for him when she was eight, and he'd ended up having to glare down a guy that had tried to call him a pussy for it when he hadn't managed to chip it all off again two days later. He didn't fancy having to beat Noct's ass for the inevitable sniggering.

Nor did he really want to tell Noct where he'd been this weekend. Something about this felt weirdly private, like it was his and Iggy's secret. This was Iggy's retreat, he realised. This was where the guy came to escape all the pressures of work, and looking after Noct, and the weight of the world resting on that big brain of his. He'd chosen to let Gladio in on it, to see it and experience it, despite knowing that Gladio had thought it was stupid.

“I'm here to do your cranial massage,” she said.

Gladio smiled at her. “No problem,” he answered.

Ignis rested back in his chair, giving a satisfied little hum of pleasure, and when fingers ran through Gladio's hair and kneaded gently at his scalp, Gladio echoed the sound. “Hey, Iggy?” he asked, closing his eyes. His only response was a soft murmur from Ignis, that sounded as blissed out as he'd looked. “Thanks for opening my mind.”

“You're quite welcome,” Ignis replied.


End file.
